


Voices To Drive Me Crazy

by Notaparentalfigure



Series: The Voices Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Friendship, M/M, Male Slash, i hear a voice and he does not like me, neville is loosing his mind, neville is really lonely, yay!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24185245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notaparentalfigure/pseuds/Notaparentalfigure
Summary: “He would never, ever, try to get the Dark Lord back into his head.”, people said. “No, no, not Neville.”Then someone would laugh at the ridiculous thought of small, poor Neville doing such a horrid thing.It truly was a ridiculous thought! ...right?Sequel to I hear a Voice and He does not like you.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Neville Longbottom/Blaise Zabini
Series: The Voices Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745506
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Chicago Daze

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> this is a little sequel to the story "I hear a voice and he does not like you". This is not a crackfic tho. this is just something that I thought of and it's more like a prologue. or maybe a one-shot?? I'm not sure yet. If you like it I can continue it and I#d have something planned however I would also be happy to make it a story, so let me know!  
> Enjoy!

Neville couldn't remember a time without the voice in his head.  
When he tries to think about it he'd either get a bad headache or he'd start crying because he did remember the feeling that came with being alone and everyone thinking that you were the weak-one.  
It was a horrid feeling. Truly disgusting. People had thought that he could be pushed around and that he would do nothing against it. And they had been right. Not once had Neville done something to stop them, he had always been too scared to fight back. Until he came into his life. He had taught him everything that no one ever thought was important enough to teach him. He had believed in him and had supported him.  
Neville confessed it had been complete and utter chaos while he had been part of his school year, but he even missed that.  
He couldn't look at his Granny and his new Grandfather Dumbledore without thinking about him.  
Every time he hugged his parents he could cry because the gratitude he felt towards the other man. No one had ever done anything like that for him.  
For the first time in his life, someone had believed in him. Believed that he could do it himself and had not pitied him for the way people treated Neville. And now he was alone once again. 

Neville Longbottom was sitting in his studio apartment in his armchair, a blanket wrapped around him and with a hot mug of black coffee next to him on the floor.  
His apartment was covered with many different plants. Some were hanging from the ceiling others were standing on the floor or the windowsill. One plant, the newest one in Neville's care that he had just recently brought home with him from a small village in Nepal, had started to crawl up the wall next to his fridge.  
He had already told her that she would have to stop doing so because his landlord had already threatened with an evection once when something similar had happened and the plant had grown into the apartment next to him. The Aurors had had to come in and erase the muggles memories. His landlord was squib so they didn't have to erase his memory but at times Neville wished they did.  
But Susan, his plant, would not listen to him but she hadn't grown over the fridge yet so he didn't complain too much.  
Neville was looking out of the window that was right next to him. It was a cloudy day and he had been waiting for the rain to come all day and now finally around 6 pm it had started raining. He had carried as many plants as he could fit out onto his balcony so that his water bill wouldn't be as high as last month because of all the water he needed to water his plants.  
The rain was drumming on his window and he couldn't help but relax. He looked down to the street of umbrellas that were quickly moving to get home, out of the rain. But one boy stood out to him.  
He wasn't in a hurry nor did he have an umbrella or hood drawn. He was walking through the crowd as if it was just a normal day as if the sun was shining down at him. The boy looked up into the sky and smiled. He then looked to the different kinds of balconies that border the street.  
Neville knew exactly what the boy was seeing. He had often stood in front of the building to see what all these muggles were seeing while walking through the street. 

The buildings that formed the narrow street were built out of red brick stones and the balconies were only built onto the lofts at the top of the building. They weren't very big but Neville was grateful none the less.  
The balcony next to him wasn't much to look at. In the apartment lived a man that had lost custody of his children and his ex-wife had forbidden him from ever seeing them again, or so the old lady, that had once brought him cookies, had told him. On his Balcony was a metal chair and on the ground next to it an ashtray. 

On his right side lived a girl that was probably his age. He wasn't sure, he had only seen her once in the hall when he had returned from the grocery store and she had been leaving her apartment. He had greeted her, she had nodded at him and had continued walking. He hadn't seen her since and he honestly didn't think that he would ever again. He couldn't even remember her face. But he was pretty sure that she had brown straight hair. The balcony wasn't much of a looker either but he didn't think that it had to be because he had never even seen her on it. 

The only other apartment on the street that looked quite as lived in as Nevilles was a balcony from the building across from his own.  
Whoever lived in that apartment had put his all into it. The floor of the balcony was covered with bohemian carpets and muggle lights were hanging from the roof. A big outside couch covered about half of the balcony and the other half was, just like Nevilles, covered with plants.  
The boy‘s eyes drifted over the different kinds of balconies, seemingly looking for a person sitting out in the rain but couldn't find any.  
The boy's eyes landed on Neville's balcony for only a few seconds but it almost felt as if the boy was staring into Neville's soul, even though their eyes didn't meet and Neville doubted that the boy could see him.  
The sound of a flushing toilet ripped him out of his thoughts and he leaned back into his armchair and grabbed his coffee.  
He didn't turn around when he heard his bathroom door open nor when his fiance started talking. 

„Neville I don‘t understand why you live in this muggle apartment.“, Blaise said and walked over to Neville and sat on the stool that stood next to Neille's chair. „This toilet thing- I will never understand it. Why don't you just you know come back to London? Or at least move into the wizarding community in new york? It would be easier for me to reach you as well!“  
Blaise had leaned towards Neville while talking and his hand was now laying on his leg. 

Neville finally looked at the other boy. ‘No, he‘s a man.‘, Neville reminded himself. They had grown up since their days in Hogwarts together. It had been six years. And seven years of yearning for his friend to return to him.  
„I like Muggle-Chicago. It's so different from London.“, He simply said and turned back towards the window.

From the moment that Neville decided to move to Chicago, it had been a sore topic for Blaise.  
Neville knew that Blaise would have followed him without questioning him but he was held back at in England with the ministry and his job.  
After school, Blaise had been offered a job at the ministry right away and he in the six years he had been working there he had become a powerful politician. It was even rumoured that he would become the youngest Minister in 10 decades. It was a pet peeve for Blaise that it wasn't in History but several hundred years ago there had been a four-year-old minister for a day because of a mix-up.  
It had been a whole drama when Blaise found out, at first it had been funny but after a while, he annoyed Neville to no end. That seemed to happen more often lately. That Neville was annoyed with Blaise over the smallest things.  
The transport was also a problem for Blaise. Overseas apparating was too dangerous, too many people had splinched themselves while trying, so the Floo network or a Portkey were the only options. But registering Portkeys took time and money and even though Neville knew that Blaise would spend all of his fortunes on him, Blaise wasn't a patient person. So the Floo Network was the only option left for Blaise. But Neville didn't have a fireplay so Blaise had to travel through Floo to the New York Ministry and from there he had to make several stops while apparating to arrive in Nevilles Studio.  
So Neville enjoyed being left alone in Chicago, without Blaise, and he was, he admitted to himself at night, happy that he could get away from Blaise for as long as possible.

„Well at least come visit soon, yeah? Hermione and Tom are asking about you. Everyone is asking about you. They are all worried.“, Blaise stood up and grabbed his coat. „Oh, and by the way, Hermione invited us to their wedding in two months. She said it would mean a lot to them if you came.“

Neville sat up straighter and held tighter onto his coffee mug. It made him incredibly uncomfortable to think about Hermione and… Tom getting married. He knew that was a selfish thing to think even only to himself but he only wanted Tom to himself. He didn't want Hermione getting his claws all over him. He was his friend. Only his! And Neville knew for a fact that Voldemort had said that Neville was his only friend as well. 

Sometimes Neville wondered if Voldemort missed him the way Neville did because somewhere deep down in Neville's mind he knew that something wasn't right with him for thinking that way about his friend.  
Once in a moment of clarity, he had wondered whether his obsession with his friend and his loneliness may have come from Voldemort being the person in HIS mind and not the other way around. Maybe if Neville had been in the Dark Lords mind instead, he would be happy with Blaise and Voldemort would be the one struggling.

„Well I better get going now, it has stopped raining.“, Neville looked out of the window and indeed it had stopped. He looked down to the street again but the boy was gone. „  
I love you.“, Blaise whispered in his ear and leaned over and kissed his cheek. Neville could feel Blaise‘ eyes linger on his face, watching, waiting for him to turn his face so he could kiss him on his mouth but Neville didn't turn his head now did he acknowledge him other than saying quietly „Goodbye.“.  
Blaise sighed and walked over to the door. „I‘ll try to drop by next weekend.“ He waited for Nevilles answer, that never came and then closed the door. 

Neville slowly turned his head to the door that his fiance had just disappeared through and stood up from his chair. He put his mug down on the floor and put the flowerpot back on the stool that Blaise had sat on. He opened the door to his balcony to let the fresh air after the rain in.  
He walked over to his kitchen, careful not to step on any roots that were covering his kitchen floor.  
He stopped in front of several cracked plant pots staked on top of each other until they reached the ceiling. Some of them had been glued back together and others were just barely holding on. There was no logical explanation of how this tower of pots was still standing strong. To any Muggle, it must have looked like magic.  
Greens and flowers were growing through each little fissure and gap, each one more colourful and unique than the last.  
He reached for his wand, that was laying on the counter, and he tapped the sixth and first pot.  
At first, nothing happened but once Neville had put his wand into his pocket and had taken a step back the pots began to move. Some might even say dance.  
The Pot that was at the very top fell towards the ground, but instead of breaking as any normal pot would have, it performed a somersault, mid-air and landed on his newly grown feet and started wandering towards Neville's bed. It sprung up and while still in the air it grew bigger and it landed on his bed five times the size it had been before.  
And the other cups followed, each one as if they had done it a million times already, which perhaps they had. Every pot walked with two little feet towards their designated spot and then they grew quickly and stopped moving. 

Neville watched all of this happen with an impressionless face.  
He walked over to the pot closest to him, on the counter and he stuck his hand into the pot. The flower that was in this pot had not grown with it, nor had any of the plants in the pots. Neville pulled, out of the newly made room in the pot, two books and put them next to him on the counter. He continued this with each and every pot that had grown through magic and pulled several books out.  
He stepped to the last pot, the one on the bed, and pulled out a notebook.  
While he walked back over to his kitchen he opened the notebook and read through his last entries, while nibbling on his fingernails. 

06.10.2004  
3 a.m.

I think I have found the safest way to do it and I know that in my first entry I mentioned that I would not stoop this low but I will do what I have to do to get my friend back.  
The answer to all my questions is Blood magic. Its always been right there but I‘ve always been too scared to reach out. But not anymore.  
I have also looked into Horcruxes because I figured that maybe I could bind his soul to mine or mine to his but I don't want to stoop as low as killing a person maybe even two, to merge our souls.  
I will try to get all the ingredients by the next new moon so that I can have him back by the 14th/15th. 

Neville.


	2. Chapter 2

Tom Riddle had never been one to make friends because he had always been a peculiar child even at seven years old. He thought himself quite normal, well besides, of course, being so much smarter than all the other children at the orphanage. 

Mrs Cole, the supervisor at Wool`s Orphanage, or as Tom called her, his own personal hellhound, had once told him that he was the spawn of the Devil himself. He had decided that he quite liked being the spawn of Satan because she forbid him from coming to church every Sunday with all the other children. So not only could he sleep in on Sundays but he also got the best portions of breakfast because the cook would always have something ready for him when he came downstairs. 

Yes, he truly didn't mind being the odd duckling. Even though he could remember one time when he had wanted a friend and had tried to befriend Billy Stubbs, the bully. 

Billy was six years older than him and he singled out all the other children except Dennis Bishop, who was the closest thing to a friend Billy had in the orphanage.

Tom had watched them one afternoon, secretly of course, and had discovered them holding hands and touching each other. Tom had thought that weird at that time because he could recall Mrs Cole saying that two men should never be more than friends because anything else would be judged before God and they would go to hell for all eternity. He had been very confused, why he was the spawn of the Devil when he had never touched a boy like that before while Billy and Dennis were sinning right under Mrs Cole`s roof. 

He had watched them for a while before deciding that he wanted something like that as well. He had gone back to his room and mentally went through all the reasons why he should befriend Billy. 

"Well,", he had thought to himself, "the other children are afraid of Billy, so if I were his friend the others would be afraid of me too!"  
That thought had been a huge reason why he decided that Billy had to be his friend.   
"And of course", he thought to himself, "once we're friends Billy will show me what he was doing to Dennis and will do it with me as well." 

Tom was buzzing with excitement that afternoon at dinner. Mrs Cole had looked at him with suspicion but he smiled at her like he always did to promise her silently that he was being good and she turned around to take care of one of the younger children that had started to choke on his potato. 

After dinner, he walked up to Billy's room, where he knew that he was already in because he had watched throughout the whole meal, and knocked on the door. Billy opened the door for him and looked down on him with anger. 

"What do you want?", he asked, surprisingly rough for a child of thirteen years of age. 

Tom smiled up at him and asked: "Can I come in?" Excitement still rolling off him in big waves.

Billy rolled his eyes and started to shut the door on him. 

"Now that won't do.", thought Tom and stuck his small foot forward to stop the door from closing. If you dont let me in I will tell Mrs Cole that you and Dennis were touching and that you're going to hell."

Billy's eyes widened comically and he grabbed Toms arm and pulled him inside the room that he had shared with another boy at some point, but Tom knew that that boy had run away and he had heard Mrs Cole say at some point that he was probably lying dead in a ditch by now. 

"How do you know of that?", Billy asked angrily and pushed Tom against the door while still holding onto his arm. 

"I saw you,", Tom said quietly, this is not at all how he imagined things to go. "I saw you this morning together."

Billy was silent for a long time. Well maybe it wasn't that long but Tom was concentrating on the feeling in his arm because it started to hurt pretty badly and he wasn't too happy about it. 

"And what are you going to do about it?", Billy asked him with a low voice.

Tom smiled, this was his moment. "Nothing if you're going to be my friend and teach me all the things you were doing with Dennis."

Billy looked down on him with disgust. "You are sick.", he spat at him. "I would never want to be your friend. And I would definitely never want to touch you. You're a freak! You're the most disgusting boy I have ever seen. You're sick!"

Tom had been incredibly mad at Billy for calling him such horrid things. So he decided right there on the spot that he was going to tell on them. He pushed Billy away from him with all his might and ran out of the door to Mrs Coles office. He could hear Billy behind him yelling for him to come back while running after him. Adrenaline flooded through Toms body, and he swore that night when he finally lied down that he actually flew down the hallway and the stairs because there was no explanation in his mind how he could have ran so fast.  
While reaching Mrs Coles office Billy caught up to him but he, like magic was pushed into a wall with a loud bang and fell unconscious right then and there. 

Tom knocked wildly on Mrs Cole's office and only stopped when the door opened and he stared into the eyes of his very angry supervisor. 

He told her everything that had seen that morning and what Billy had done to him after he found out That Tom knew his secret. Of course, he didn't mention the part where he had tried to press Billy into touching him like he had touched Dennis, he wasn't dumb after all. 

Mrs Cole looked like she was about to have a heart attack but Tom also saw the anger and disgust in her eyes and for a short moment it frightened him and he thought about that look while he watched her beat Billy and Dennis because he wondered what would have happened if he had told her that he wanted to be with a boy as well. 

After that, Tom gave up a friendship but that wasn't the only outcome of this situation, no, Mrs Cole respected him after he had told her what had occurred between the two boys and she decided that he could not be the spawn of the devil because the devil supported such things and Tom had told her, a woman of god, of the sins of the boys. And so she allowed him to come to church every Sunday again. He cursed himself for, ever saying anything because now he had to stand in front of God every Sunday and be judged by him for the thoughts he had about boys. And he knew that he would never ever be in a relationship with a man because he knew it was a sin.

Yes, that was pretty much when Tom had given up on friendship, or so he thought. 

When Dumbledore came to visit him to tell him that he was a wizard and that he would go to a school named Hogwarts he had hoped once again. Dumbledore had said "I know how it must feel to be surrounded by Muggles; to always feel like you're left out. But you can go to Hogwarts and there you can find many friends. They're like you."

And hated himself for it, but he believed the Professor. It was foolish, nothing more than a boys wish for some kind of connection. And yet Tom couldn't help but long for it. 

So when he arrived in Hogwarts he had been excited to meet the other wizards; people that were like him. But once he had sat down at the Slytherin table he realised that it couldn't be. 

A second-year had leaned over to him and had looked at him with suspicion in his young face. "Riddle is a Muggle Name isn't it?", the boy had said. Tom wasn't entirely sure why that had been a bad thing, after all, all wizards were equals, that was what Dumbledore had said and Dumbledore wouldn't lie to a hopeful eleven years old, right? So Tom had nodded at the boy's question and he watched as the look of suspicion turned into one of disgust. 

"Mudblood.", the boy had hissed at him and had turned back to his friends. 

Tom didn't know what that word meant but once he had looked it up in the library he understood. He understood that all Dumbledore had said to him had been a lie. 

He wouldn't ever admit it, but he did feel sadness at that moment. 

'And looking back at it', Tom thought, 'that was probably where the hate for Dumbledore started.'

So after that, he had promised himself "No friend, ever." and he kept that promise to himself for a very long time. So long in fact that he stopped ever wondering what having a friend would be like. Years and years passed. He died he came back to live, angrier than ever but still not wishing for a friend. 

That was until one fateful afternoon he landed inside of the head of a schoolboy. 

Neville Longbottom.

After only seven months he had given everything up for that boy. His life work, the cause that he had literally died for. All was gone because of Neville. His first and only friend. 

And he couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn't given up. If he had said to Neville, 'You can join me or I will be forced to fight against you and when we meet on the battlefield I will not hesitate to kill a traitor.'

He probably would have won. He was immortal after all. He would have won and ruled the wizarding world and after a little while, the entire world. 

But a little voice said in his head 'But at what cost.'

Tom was interrupted by his Fiance, Hermione Granger, soon to be Riddle-Granger. "Tom, are you ready? We have to go meet Mister Horncackle now."

Tom wouldn't have known who Mister Horncackle was if he didn't know that they were going to see their Wedding Planner. 

"I am ready, are you operating or do you want me to do it?", he asked while putting his wand in his pocket and reaching out to take her hand.

"I will do it.", she said and off they were.

000

Tom had lost count of how many different kinds of colours they had hexed on his body. 

He wasn't even entirely sure what some of the colours were called but he let it all happen. He had stopped listening to the Wedding Planner, whose name was long forgotten. 

He knew that sometimes Hermione or the man would say something like "Would you like that, Mister Riddle?" or "That would be nice, right Tom?" and he would nod and smile. 

He didn't even know what they were talking about at the moment. He had long since given up on knowing what exactly would happen at the wedding. He would just let them surprise him.

Tom looked over at his fiance. She was a force to be reckoned with. 

Tom loved her in a twisted sort of way but not in the way she wanted nor in the way she deserved. 

Maybe that was the reason that they always argued. Maybe she knew deep down that he didn't actually want to marry her. 

Hermione was a difficult Lover, he had found that out about her early on in their relationship. She knew what she wanted and she got angry when it didn't go how she had planned it. Tom had given up long ago to argue back. He felt that he was too old for that. He was 78 years old after all and at one point you had to stop arguing with the younger generation.

He let Hermione do whatever she wanted, so when she had come to him one afternoon and had told him that she wanted to get married he had nodded and said: "Okay, love."

After all, how was he supposed to explain to her that he thought getting married was one of the most unnecessary things anyone could ever do. 

That's right, he couldn't, so he didn't. 

And now he was here, getting hexed into different colours, eating more cake than anyone should ever have to eat and being pricked by needles from the seamstress. 

Sometimes he wondered what choices had led him to this exact moment. To stand on this stool, being measured for his suit, for a wedding he didn't want. He knew that if he had the chance to change whatever choice he made that brought him here, he would. 

But he couldn't help but wonder if the whole encounter with Neville had led him here because he wouldn't ever want to change anything about that encounter. He would happily attend a billion weddings if he only got the chance to live through those months with Neville again. 

He hadn't seen him in so many years. He left right after graduating from Hogwarts and now he lived in, from what he heard from Blaise, Chicago. He didn't talk to Blaise himself. Sometimes Hermione would invite him over for tea but Tom always made sure that he was somewhere else when that happened. And afterwards, Hermione would tell him everything about Neville that Blaise had mentioned. 

Tom envied Blaise. He could just go to Neville whenever he wanted and he would be welcomed with open arms.

Neville loved Blaise and Neville's hadn't even bothered to say goodbye to him when he left. 

"Yes", Tom thought to himself while watching his fiance. "Blaise can be envied for a lot of things but I envy him for the most precious thing he has."

„Tom, darling can you come here for a second?“, Hermione's voice shocked him out of his musings.   
He realised his face had slipped and that he probably looked annoyed beyond belief.   
He nodded, smiled and slowly got down from the platform that they had put him on.   
As he took his first step he realised that he wasn't feeling too well. He was sweating and his body felt weak which reminded him of the time that he had been dead. For a moment Tom thought that maybe he was dying again but he calmed himself and remembered that he still had his Horcruxes.   
He took a second step and it felt antagonizing to lift his leg because it was so heavy.   
His third and final step wast really a step it was him falling towards the ground.   
Faintly he heard voices call out his name but he wasn't sure what they were saying.  
Right before he hit the ground he realised that he had felt this feeling before. It felt like someone ripping into your mind in a way that no Legilimens could ever stop it.   
He laughed in his mind ‚Its almost like when Neville and I morphed together.‘  
And directly when he hit the ground everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Please don't forget to tell me what you thought!  
> Lovexxx


End file.
